L'étrange
by grimm psyke
Summary: Theme: LesMis/Characters: XHolic, DouWata - Years after his release from jail, Doumeki finds himself drawn into a plot much bigger than himself; one that has everything to do with a police inspector and a young girl.


**Faith**

"Bring me prisoner 24601!" Watanuki shouted over the din of the working convicts. The two guards brought the unresisting man to him.

"Prisoner 24601! This is your yellow ticket of leave. Do you know what this means?"

"I am on parole." The prisoner said calmly. He was a big man – even a bit taller than Watanuki, who was fairly tall himself – and heavily built.

"Er... yes?" Watanuki said. He expected more... fire. This prisoner was oddly complacent. "Uhh... go to your parole officer in Dijon..." he trailed off uncertainly. Watanuki was used to dealing with the most violent criminals, those sentenced to hard labor for rape and murder. This man was simply strange. An anomaly. Watanuki glanced at the paper, something that he had never done since the day he began his job. "Prisoner 24601, you have only been here for five years. Why are you with the hard labor group?"

"I stole a loaf of bread, broke a window, was given five years. They offered more food to the hard labor group."

Watanuki gaped at the man. What a simple reason to join the hardest worked group of convicts! "Release him," Watanuki said to the guards. "My name is Watanuki." He wondered, briefly, why he was giving the convict his name.

"I am Doumeki Shizuka."

--

"Take the money!" The owner of the farm shouted.

"No," Doumeki said.

"Take it now!" The land owner shook her fist at Doumeki and hit him over the head with an umbrella that appeared out of nowhere.

"I am a convict. I cannot take from honest men."

The land owner growled. "You'll have to take some payment or the consequences will be dire," she said under her breath, "at least take a loaf of bread and some cheese," she insisted. Doumeki shrugged and accepted the food. "May the Gods smile upon you, stranger. Will you take shelter in my home?" She said more composedly.

"No." Doumeki said simply, and ducked.

"I wish you would just accept the offer so that I could reject you!" The land owner screamed after him as he left. But then Doumeki had already decided to take shelter where his presence wouldn't be a burden.

Doumeki knocked on the huge double doors, wondering if it were possible to even open them. He briefly considered trying, just to see if he could, but then he'd have to close them again and the effort seemed too much trouble.

A section of the huge door on the left opened with a small creak. There was a smaller door inside the huge double doors. That would make a lot of sense.

"Come in stranger," said the man who opened the door. Doumeki didn't comply immediately, instead handing the man his parole papers. "A convict?" The man's pipe bobbed up and down as he spoke.

"You shouldn't smoke," Doumeki said.

"Why? Because I'm a priest?" The man scoffed.

Doumeki shrugged. "Unhealthy."

"Meh. I'll die someday." The priest scratched his head. "You coming in or what?" Doumeki shrugged and followed the man into the church. "My name is Haruka. I welcome you, my son, Doumeki Shizuka, into the house of God."

And Doumeki wondered if he had ever given Haruka his name. Then again, it was probably on the parole papers.

Doumeki was restless. Usually he was worked so hard in the quarries that it was all he could do to collapse onto his cot and sleep until wake up call. Now, though, he was hardly tired at all and the bed was simply too soft.

So he went downstairs, to the kitchen.

"You know..." Doumeki blinked, the only outward sign of surprised that showed on his face. "One would expect a convict to be stealing something, rather than giving it away."

"It's only food," Doumeki replied. He didn't bother taking the cheese back from the pantry; all he really needed was the bread and the food would go to the poor. Besides, the prison had given the convicts in the hard labor group a small pension and the other convicts had insisted on giving him their money, since they would never be free to use it. He had forced the ones that only had a few years left to keep their money of course. But the others made sure he kept their money.

The priest offered him a medallion and a gun. "Take this," said Haruka.

Doumeki eyed it warily. "What is it?"

"A gun, obviously." Haruka snorted. Doumeki remained silent. "Do what you will with the gun. And the medallion is just a small trinket, it will let you get shelter in any church."

"Convicts are not allowed weapons." He doubted that he could fight the priest about the medallion.

Haruka grunted. "Does it look like I care? It's a special gun, doesn't work on humans."

Doumeki wondered what it did work on. Haruka shoved it at him.

"With this I've bought your soul," and for some reason that sounded more ominous than comforting, "now you belong to the Gods and all that. Now get on your way, if you're awake already. It's too early to be up and I'm in no mood to attend you," and the priest returned to his bed. And Doumeki went on his way to Dijon.

The priest lied, Doumeki decided. He had initially worn the medallion for all to see, but after the first few people had started bowing and apologizing upon seeing him, he put it under his shirt. The weight of the circular object on his chest was slight, but even the officer who had taken his parole papers had been more than skittish around him when he wore it openly.

He stopped before the city hall of the small town he had recently arrived in, but then he decided that it would be better to find shelter first. For some reason or other, he could not find the church. Then again, this had to be the worst of any of the slums that he'd ever been in. Even the convict quarters in the quarry had been cleaner.

"Monseiur Mayor!"

Doumeki continued walking, thinking about how much he could do to help improve the place. Much could be done, aesthetically, that would also improve the economics. But in order to do so, he would have to have influence and, though he wished to help, it wasn't something a convict could do.

"M'sieur Mayor!" Doumeki looked around. There was nobody else on the street, save a few beggars and drunken stragglers. He turned.

It was the chief of police. A curious person to see in these quarters, even if the town square was hardly a sight better. He stopped in front of Doumeki, panting and red faced.

"M'sieur Mayor, where have you been these months?" Doumeki frowned at the man.

"Who are you talking to, sir?"

"Me! A sir? To the Mayor? M'sieur Mayor, surely you must be teasing me."

"Are you talking to me?"

"But of course! Who else would I be addressing, M'sieur Mayor?" Doumeki shrugged. "You are wearing the medallion, m'sieur, you can be no other." Doumeki glanced down. The medallion had somehow fallen out of his shirt. "Come now m'sieur, you've a lot of work to do."

The priest definitely lied.

--

"Well now, sir, you are now in charge of the Vigau police," The former chief of police told the new Inspector.

"I would like to meet the Mayor," said the Inspector.

"Ah, there's no need. I'm sure he will meet you in time. He's a busy man."

"Yes, so I hear. He owns the factory, am I right?"

"Yes. Came into town, five years ago, out of nowhere. I know, I was the one to escort him to his station. Our last mayor disappeared and with him the medallion. The man didn't want to be mayor, but if our last mayor gave him the medallion then he was worthy."

"...Odd that you accepted him so easily."

"Oh, not at all. Any authority would have been accepted, or rejected as a whole, on principal. The town was in ruins, there was no way it could have been worse. But the mayor saved the town, built the factory from scratch. The factory provides most of the jobs around here and the mayor is now a rich man. Or rather," the talkative man amended, "he would be a rich man if he didn't give most of his money to charity. Only keeps enough to live off of, and stays in this little hut of a home. Almost smaller than a laborer's shack!"

"This is the factory then?" the Inspector asked, for the former chief had brought him to a well lit hallway in the largest building in the town.

"Oh, yes it is! I didn't notice that we had arrived!" The former chief said, and pushed his way past the Inspector. He knocked on the Mayor's study door.

"Monsieur Mayor, it is the new police Inspector to see you."

"He doesn't need to report."

"But M'sieur le Mayor, if you do not, I fear he may burst into tears," the ex-chief grinned as the new Inspector sent him a hard look.

"Very well, send him in."

Doumeki froze at his desk. "...Inspector Watanuki."

"You know me?" the Inspector asked, "oh but of course, you would have gotten the missive from headquarters." He bowed. "Inspector Watanuki, at your service Monsieur."

Doumeki stood. "You were the head of guard at the quarry."

Watanuki gaped. "You were the convict..." His gaze sharpened. "How did you become the mayor."

Doumeki drew himself up. "Not by crook, rest assured." Watanuki's stare remained wary.

"Explain."

So Doumeki explained as best as he could. After he was done, Watanuki had a thoughtful expression on his face.

"I see. I will trust you, I suppose... Only be warned that if you should ever transgress again I will be there."

Doumeki nodded. "I shall count on it."

"There's a fight!" A worker shouted, banging on the door. Doumeki stood suddenly, immediately his demeanor changed completely.

"Come," he told Watanuki, who followed at his heels.

Two women were pulling each other's hair, fingers scrabbling and scratching. Both women were fighting against each other and the crowd of people trying to hold them back. Doumeki immediately stood between them and pushed them apart.

"What is the reason for this fight?"

"This-this witch started the fight!" A woman with long pale hair screeched and pointed at the other woman. The woman – little more than a girl really – who had long curly black hair, drew herself up with outraged composure.

"I did nothing at all. I was simply doing my job."

"She is a harlot and a witch! Whenever she is on shift, things go wrong! Send her away!"

The foreman came and took the dark haired girl by the shoulder, while Doumeki was thinking. There was nothing really that he could do for her. Not while the other women seemed so set against her.

"She is a bad influence!"

"Sack her!"

"Enough!" Doumeki said.

"Please," pleaded the girl, "I have a child that I must support. I need this job." She begged.

"I am sorry, there is nothing I can do for you." He started. She sobbed and started running, before he had finished. Doumeki gritted his teeth. "Is there anyone who knows that woman?" He asked the rest of the workers. One woman raised a trembling hand.

"Come to my office. Officer Watanuki, find the woman."

The woman came into his office and sat opposite of him, trembling.

"What do you know of that worker?" He asked.

"I have known Himawari since the time we were born. She is a good girl. Please don't fire her, she did not start the fight."

"I did not ask of her character, but go on. What of this child."

"She has no child, she is much too young."

"Then why would that woman accuse her?" His brow furrowed.

"You misunderstand, M'sieur. The child is her sister." Doumeki could swear that her eyes were flickering black. But it might have been a trick of the light.

"Would the other workers have any reason to turn against her?"

The woman shook her head. "It was as if they were all possessed, especially the one who accused her. Normally they are very good friends, the woman who accused her was my twin sister." She sniffled. "Please, m'seiur mayor, please find her."

Watanuki returned as soon as she left. Doumeki pulled out a quill and parchment.

"Inspector Watanuki, what is the status of the search?"

Watanuki saluted. "I found the woman passed out on the street. Her hair was cut and she was unconscious. Other than that she seems perfectly fine. Only..."

"Yes? Speak."

"Do you believe in ghosts, M'sieur le Mayor?"

"..." Doumeki stopped writing.

"She started talking, when we found her. But she appeared to still be asleep."

Doumeki finished the letter and stamped it. "Seal this letter when it dries. When I return, be prepared to leave."

"Leave, sir? Have I not performed to your satisfaction?"

"You misunderstand. You will be coming with me. This is to grant ex-chief Soel temporary power again until your return."

"...Very well sir."

The hospital was nearly empty when Doumeki arrived.

The woman was pale save her brow and cheek, sweating from fever.

"M'sieur Mayor," she said upon his entry. She had not even opened her eyes. His hand went immediately to his belt, where the gun the priest had given him was. "Please, save my child. She is with a family which demands more and more from me. Only but recently have they stopped. Their silence scares me." She started to choke and her eyes flew open. They were not a normal color, but completely black. She was possessed. Doumeki steadied his hand, leveling the barrel of the gun at her head. He would just have to put his faith in his instinct and the priest's words. He pulled the trigger.

Watanuki heard the shot from outside. He rushed in, only to see the mayor shoot again and then leave through the back door.

The mayor had just shot the woman. Inspector Watanuki immediately checked the still woman for injuries, but there were none. She was pale, but breathing. But Watanuki was sure that he had seen the mayor shoot the girl in the head.

He had warned the ex-convict already. There was nothing he could do but to chase.

--

He had gone through her records to find where the child was.

A bar, owned by an ex-militarist and his wife. Only, the pair had recently disappeared, according to reports from the locals. Some believed that they had moved to America, others thought that they had finally been murdered. Either way, they were known crooks.

And someone had taken over their bar. Someone that nobody had seen before. The only thing the locals knew was that a young girl, somewhere around the age of maybe fourteen and two twins who were a few years younger, took care of the cleaning. A pair of men, one who wore darkened glasses and had black hair and the other wispy with normal spectacles and light hair took care of the children.

"Mistress, somebody is here!" Two children – one with long bluish purple hair and the other with pink hair – dropped their rag and broom respectively. They ran into the house.

A woman, draped over with carefully placed cloth that barely covered enough to be decent, came from the door. Suddenly the look of the entire bar changed. The woman had magenta eyes and long, flowing black hair.

"You are here for Kohane, are you not?"

Doumeki nodded, though unnerved. She blinked slowly at him, then smiled. He was not reassured.

"Come in then." Somehow he felt like a rabbit entering the lair of a fox. "Kohane!" The woman called as she entered.

"Yes mistress?"

"Kohane, this man has come to take you away," the woman said with a tone that said that she didn't believe that Kohane would agree.

"Take me away mistress? Why?"

"He believes you to be the sister of one of his workers."

"No." Doumeki interrupted. Both woman and child looked at him in surprise. "She was possessed. I want to know why you are important enough for a demon to possess three women just so it can get to you."

"Oh?" said the woman.

Somehow, Doumeki got the feeling that this woman knew the priest. Perhaps it was the way she held herself.

"Sit, sit. Tell me what you know."

Doumeki's eyes narrowed. "First, your name."

The woman's eyes widened, and then she giggled. "Oh, you are a sharp one, aren't you? You drive a hard bargain sir." He gave her a stony stare, to which her answer was a secretive smile. "Some call me Yuuko, M'sieur le Mayor, as you may."

"Indeed," he answered gravely.

"And it is now that I tell you that you cannot get something without giving something in return. Normally I would ask what your wish is but..." she tilted her head and stared at him with those unnatural eyes of hers, "I have a feeling that I would not be able to grant what you would ask."

"What must I pay?"

Yuuko considered. "Your time and service, three days hence."

"What must I do?"

She laughed. "So careful, but then in your years you have had to learn tact, haven't you." He remained silent. "It won't be hard, not for you. But it is your decision to comply. If you do not, after I give you the information, the consequences... will be dire." Doumeki gritted his teeth.

"Fine."

Yuuko giggled. "So territorial. This one doesn't like having things he cannot control happen in his domain."

"...I will agree to the bargain."

Her eyebrows raised. "Indeed?" He nodded.

"Then your information; the demons want Kohane because she is part of the puzzle that will allow them to take control of your little town."

"Why do they want my town?"

She raised a brow. "This information shall cost you as well."

"...What is your price?"

"The ribbon at your neck."

His fingers flew to the ribbon to remove it. He placed it on the table, whereupon Yuuko picked it up and beckoned to one of the twins, who were standing in the corner. He hadn't noticed. Mistakes like that could cost him dearly. "Maru, take this to the vault," Yuuko said.

"Your answer?"

Her eyes fluttered closed. "Your town is the final location of a trinity, that will allow them to open the gates to the vein of power that lies beneath the earth. Tapping into this power will make it so that their rule cannot be challenged."

"What can I do to stop it." Yuuko raised an eyebrow. "I know this was your plan." She chuckled.

"It is not my plan," Yuuko said, "it is hitsuzen." She sighed, "Everything will be revealed in time," Yuuko said, "it is not my place to interfere." She stood. "You may stay here until the appointed time."

--

A/N: I have no clue where this came from. Anyways, this might be posted to deviantart and crossposted on various LJ comms, so if you see it elsewhere, the person who posted is probably me. This is a work in progress, updates some time not in the near future.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own XHolic or LesMis. Some lines are taken from the beginning of LesMis, the musical and the movie. The plot is original, except for the parts in the beginning that are borrowed.


End file.
